


Six Impossible Things

by Serenity_V



Series: An Acquired Taste [9]
Category: The Blacklist (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Codes & Ciphers, Espionage, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-08 15:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serenity_V/pseuds/Serenity_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jacob would settle for just one.<br/>Ep 3:21, Susan Hargrave, through Jacob’s eyes, with a twist of my own at the end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six Impossible Things

Jacob walked, alone and unhindered, through the heart of the blacksite. He was there – unmasked, no less – as an ally, with no pretenses. It was surreal. He didn’t belong here; this was Liz’s world.

He grimaced as Ressler took a jab at him, calling him the “new Agent Keen,” as though she could be replaced. He knew that wasn’t what the blond man meant, that he’d held Liz in the highest regard and was only trying to get under Jacob’s skin, but that didn’t make it any better. No amount of rationalization could reason away the hole in his heart, and the agent had decided to stick a finger in that hole and wriggle it around – in a way that felt disrespectful to Lizzie’s memory, whatever his intentions.

Emotions with which he’d never had to struggle before meeting Lizzie roiled in Jacob’s gut, but he pushed it all aside, and focused on doing what he could to find whoever had taken her from him; it was all he knew how to do.

* * *

Jacob’s phone rang, and the target looked over at him, flashing a small smile. He’d seen that smile before, countless times on countless women, and some part of him must have recognized what it meant, hard as he tried to ignore it, because he could feel the bile rising in his throat at the half-formed thought; he took it out on Aram, “Thanks a lot, man. You just alerted the target to my presence.”

He knew, though, that he was being unreasonable, and he needed to get this done, so he swallowed his emotions and moved.

“All right, I’m sitting right next to her. I cannot get any closer.” Then, he heard those two little words.

“Something’s wrong.”

_Great. Just what everyone goes into an operation wanting to hear._

“I’m not getting any signal from her computer,” Aram continues, “Abort. Abort.”

“Did you say ‘abort’?”

_Seriously, where did they find this guy?_

If Jacob hadn’t been so on edge, he might have laughed.

“Uh, whatever. Just… We need a new plan.”

Well, that was obvious.

He wasn’t used to giving up on an op so easily, but apparently, the technology wasn’t cooperating, and there was nothing he could do about that, so he got ready to retreat.

Then, the mark made contact.

He acted on instinct, claiming a pressing need to “get back to the office” as a convenient means of escape.

“That’s unfortunate,” she said, with that _look_ in her eyes.

Jacob wanted nothing more than to be gone, but the analytical part of him, the piece of his brain that operated on autopilot according to his years of training and experience made him pause. He knew how important this mission was.

So, he smiled back at the woman, feeling sick to his stomach as he took steps to ensure further contact, another shot at getting what they needed. As the conversation ended, Jacob turned away, feeling filthy. A part of him was distantly surprised at his reaction; he’d never felt anything like this before – except he had, he realized.

This was what he’d felt, what now seemed so long ago, when “Jolene Parker” had kissed him. It was this feeling that had stopped him when he’d considered doing more. He’d never had any qualms about doing what was necessary to finish an assignment, but while slightly unexpected, it was hardly surprising for these feelings to pop up now, of all times. He’d just been unprepared for their intensity.

As he relayed to Aram the little he’d managed to accomplish, he wondered if Lizzie would understand what he was doing. If she would see it as a betrayal. She wasn’t there to tell him how she felt about it; that was the problem.

That was why he had to do this.

* * *

“So, if we couldn’t get into Amanda’s network today, what’s going to be different tonight?”

“Tonight,” Aram answered, visibly pleased with himself, “you jump her air gap.”

Jacob gave the other man a blank look, waiting for an explanation of what he assumed was some kind of techno-babble. Why couldn’t techies ever just speak English?

Apparently, the agent misinterpreted Jacob’s reaction because he immediately started backtracking, “Whoa. No. Oh, I’m not… No, what I’m suggesting is that you insert this thumb drive into, uh, her laptop. It… It’s got an exploit that will give us access to her computer and her company’s proprietary telecommunications infrastructure… e-mails, phone calls. Should lead us to her boss. Look, what you thought I was suggesting before, I would never, ever suggest… that.”

Jacob had never dreamed Aram would suggest “that,” but in any case, this was a conversation he had neither the time nor the inclination to pursue, so he simply focused on the mission, asking, “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. It’s just plug and play. Downloads automatically in one to two minutes.”

“Got it,” Jacob replied. He knew what he had to do. He just hoped he was ready to do it.

* * *

Amanda asked Jacob for his deep, dark secret, and he was blindsided. He bought some time by asking, “Shouldn’t you find out a man’s deep, dark secret before you invite him into your apartment?”

Because she had no idea what she was asking, the sort of secrets someone like Jacob harbored. The sort of secrets that had almost cost him Liz.

When she kissed him, he wanted to throw up. He acted on instinct, almost immediately, “spilling” the contents of his glass over her front.

Jacob knew he was being a reckless idiot. Under any other circumstances, he’d have waited for a safe, natural opening to present itself, knowing one would come in the course of the evening. But, desperate, he made his own opening, hurrying over to the target’s laptop while she changed in the other room, because he couldn’t stand it. He had to get out of there.

And so, he did, almost the second he was able.

“I think I might be moving…too fast,” he told his mark.

As he walked away, he didn’t think he’d ever felt more relieved.

* * *

“I don’t want to know how you did it,” Aram told Jacob upon his return, “but… yes. Actually, I do want to know how. I don’t understand how you _could_ do it.”

Jacob bristled at that. He didn’t have to explain himself to this guy, who had _asked_ him to do what he’d done, who had no right to judge him. It wasn’t like it had been easy.

If Jacob was honest, he’d be forced to admit that the agent’s query bothered him because he wondered the same thing.

 But, then, he continued, “Agent Keen loved you. I know it’s none of my business, but…”

And, Jacob softened at that – because Aram only cared about what Jacob may or may not have done with the target because he cared about Liz.

So, for Liz’s sake, Jacob gave the other man the most precious thing he could: The truth, “I loved her too.”

“Okay, good. Excellent. I know it probably shouldn’t matter, but it somehow does…”

For once, when Aram spoke, Jacob understood exactly what he meant. He shouldn’t care what the agent thought of him, but he couldn’t help but feel pleased that he believed him.

* * *

They were getting nowhere, and Jacob was growing frustrated.

“Patience,” Aram soothed, “Patience,” and Jacob noticed his eyes flick to Samar.

He recognized that expression.

“I think you might be a little too patient.”

Immediately, the other man began to stutter out a defense. What it amounted to was fear, and Jacob knew exactly how he felt.

Jacob knew from painful personal experience what it was to wait too long; he didn’t want Liz’s friend to make the same mistake.

So, he told him, “You, Samar, all of you…We’re only here because of Liz. So, before it ends…just tell her. You’ll never know what she’s going to say unless you do.”

Jacob had lied to Liz because he’d been afraid she couldn’t accept him, but she’d proven him wrong in the most spectacular of ways. Even when she’d had to find out on her own, in the most painful of ways, she’d forgiven him, _loved_ him.

You really never knew until you took a chance.

* * *

More out of habit than anything else, Jacob checked the mail when he returned home. He found a single letter, with no return address.

He sighed, cursing internally. He couldn’t deal with this right now, not on top of everything else.

Steeling himself, Jacob opened the envelope and read the letter it contained. It had been typed, so as not to betray the author through the handwriting.

There were only six words: “Come on. It’s me and you.”

 _Come on. It’s me and you,_ echoed in Jacob’s head in a painfully familiar voice, _We usually do like six impossible things before breakfast._

_I love it when you misquote Lewis Carroll._

_I know. That’s why I do it._

The rest of the message was nothing but numbers, grouped in threes.

_Lewis Carroll._

Jacob grabbed his copy of _Through the Looking Glass_ off the shelf, and flipped it open according to the page-line-letter indications on the page before him.

His chest was tight, his breaths shallow, as he translated the book cipher, trying to stop his hopes from rising.

When he’d assembled the message, it read:

Im sorry it took me so long to reach out. This whole mess has just been crazy. I love you. I promise, someday soon, this is all going to be over, and Im going to come home. Dont waste time grieving for me, and dont do anything stupid while Im not there to watch your back. Stay safe, and take care of Agnes. I love you both.

“Lizzie,” Jacob breathed.

It wasn’t possible.

But, then, since when had Liz been bound by what was _possible?_

He hardly dared to hope the implications might be true, but what other explanation was there? No one else knew about that conversation they’d had the morning of their wedding.

_I’m going to come home._

_I’ll hold you to that,_ Jacob thought.

He burned the letter and placed the book back on the shelf. Even as he destroyed the evidence, the effect remained; Jacob’s heart rose with the flames.


End file.
